Silver Paint
by smileyboo22
Summary: When Bella accidentally damages Edward's car in his absence, she suffers at the hands of a nosy neighbor. Will Edward be there in time to save her? Humor. Oneshot.


**Hey! **

**Boo here, author of 'Silver Paint'. **

**This is a oneshot. It was just something random one my computer; I wasn't going to publish it, but I thought maybe it would be worth it if a few of you got some chuckles out of it.**

**I hope you enjoy the story!**

**Read on!**

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns just about everything- except for a really nosy neighbor.**

* * *

"What? Why are you going?" I cried, my mood immediately plummeting.

Edward smiled softly.

"Don't worry; I'll be back in a few minutes. I just want to get something from my house," he said soothingly.

"I'm running," he added. "I parked my car around the corner. I want to get back to you as fast as possible."

He gave me another beautiful, crooked smile- then he was gone.

"Bye…" I mumbled, trying to recollect my scattered thoughts.

I heard a low chuckle, then silence.

I stood up unsteadily, blinked a few times, and then opened my door to walk downstairs.

Charlie was seated on the sofa, watching the television.

When he heard me, he twisted his head in my direction.

"Bella, have you finished your homework?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course!"

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides, and then turned back to the TV.

I hadn't done my homework.

"Crap…" I mumbled. I still had to finish my English essay.

"What?" called Charlie.

"Nothing!" I said, my voice high pitched and nervous.

"Okay. By the way, I cleaned the kitchen counters," Charlie said.

I nodded confusedly; what did that have to do with anything?

I walked through the kitchen, but then spotted a wad of paper towels on the counter. I rolled my eyes. Cleaned the counter, hmm? And left evidence.

I swiped my sleeve at it, effectively batting it into the trash. I smiled my success.

My smile faded as I realized that I had left my backpack in Edward's car.

I considered waiting for Edward to come back, but quickly rejected the idea; I wanted as much homework free time with Edward as possible.

Did Edward leave his car unlocked?

I seriously doubted it.

It was worth a try, anyway.

I glanced back at the counters.

Had they been grey, before?

I didn't think so.

May Charlie had repainted them?

I shrugged inwardly, and then tiptoed to the door, feeling idiotic.

I twisted the knob gently; it opened with a barely audible _click_.

I took one long half step, half leap out the door, landed at an awkward angle, tripped down the steps, and landed on the lawn.

I leapt up, looking around discreetly. I shook the grass out of my disheveled hair and patted down my jacket, wincing when I saw the grass stains on my jeans.

That would need some Oxiclean…

I carefully tiptoed back up to the door, and then shut it silently. I made it down the steps, by some miracle; I felt like patting myself on the back, but refrained.

I was on a mission.

I walked to the end of my driveway and stuck out my head, craning it left, then right.

Which corner had he parked on?

I chose left. I walked down the street, feeling somehow paranoid. I kept glancing both ways. I shivered and finally got to the corner.

There was Edward's shiny silver Volvo, in all its pristine glory. I swiftly walked over to it and yanked on the handle.

Damn it. It was locked.

I walked over to the passenger side and tentatively tried that handle, too.

Nothing.

I let out a frustrated sigh and yanked on it harder.

The handle clattered to the floor.

"Oh, my God!" I whispered frantically.

I bent down and picked up the shiny handle, then stuffed it back into the hollowed-out area where it was supposed to go.

It stayed.

I gave a nervous, yet triumphant smile.

It clattered to the floor again.

My smile turned upside down.

I picked up the handle, determinedly set my elbow against the car door for balance, kneeled down, and put the handle back where it belonged.

I got up, dusting my hopelessly dirty jeans off, and backed away from the car slowly, my palm faced outward, mouthing 'stay' at the door handle.

After reminding myself that the car wasn't a dog, I observed my handiwork.

Uh-oh…

The door was a dull, ugly grey where I had propped my elbow against the door.

I looked at my sleeve.

I let out a shriek, and then clapped a hand to my mouth, looking around furtively.

My sleeve was covered in a film of silver paint.

I groaned and sank to the ground. How had this happened?!

My day just couldn't get any worse.

The handle fell to the ground with a clatter.

Well, then, it obviously could…

I felt droplets of rain begin to fall into my hair. Soon, a full-fledged rainstorm was happening.

So much for reverse psychology.

I picked up the wet handle, letting the rain fall into my hair, my eyes, soaking into my clothes.

I deserved it.

"Young lady?"

A voice came out of the rain. I whirled around.

Oh, God.

Ms. Potane was a horrible, nosy neighbor. She told everyone her life stories at every opportunity she got.

She eyed the handle in my hand.

Sheepishly, I hid it behind my back.

"Isn't that your boyfriend's car?" she asked.

Gah. This was such a small town! How did everyone know everything!?

"Uhmm, yes.." I answered politely.

"You're vandalizing your boyfriend's car? I would have thought better of you. You're a police chief's daughter! The first time he left you, you got depressed; now you're getting violent! This is out of my hands. I'm calling your father right this instant!"

"No! You don't understand!"

She was already dialing the number.

I listened in misery as she talked to Charlie. Where was Edward when you needed him?

She ended the call, then grabbed my upper arm in a painful, vicelike grip.

I stumbled a couple of steps behind, my mouth twisted in pain.

But I had faced worse than a middle-aged woman's freakishly strong fingers before. I would be brave!

Ms. Potane yanked my arm to make me go faster.

I whimpered.

I had felt less nervous when walking to my death.

Charlie was waiting at the door.

I yanked my arm out of her hands and stomped through the door, feeling oddly defiant.

I realized the Volvo's door handle was still in my hand.

Charlie walked into the kitchen and sat down. I furrowed my eyebrows at the grey counters, then reluctantly followed.

Ms. Potane followed too, rather more eagerly.

"Bella," Charlie began, "why didn't you tell me that Edward broke up with you?"

I detected an undercurrent of…happiness?

I glared at him.

"He didn't."

"Denial!" Ms. Potane sang.

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm serious."

"Then why were you vandalizing his car?!" Ms. Potane sneered. "That doesn't sound like the act of a member of a happy couple."

She smirked and sat back in her chair challengingly.

"I just wanted something from his car! The handle- it just…fell off!" I illustrated desperately as I talked, waving my hands around wildly.

Ms. Potane snorted. "Yeah, right."

Charlie caught my gaze. "I'm disappointed in you, Bella."

"I didn't _do _anythi-"

_Ding dong._

Edward?

I sprinted to the door, but as I ran out of the kitchen, I skidded sideways on the rug. I let out an involuntary yelp.

My face was frozen momentarily in an expression of shock as I flew, airborne…

_Thunk._

A searing pain broke through my head.

I groaned softly and dropped the door handle- which I realized that I was still clutching tightly in my fist- and brought both of my hands to the sharp pain in my head.

"Oww…" I mumbled.

To my embarrassment, angry, yet pained tears began to flow from my eyes.

Suddenly, cool hands pried mine from my head and gently touched where it was tender. A low hiss escaped through my teeth.

I heard Edward's voice, speaking in a low, earnest tone- on the phone?

He _did _come!

_My angel_.

_My savior_…

Then I blacked out.

* * *

I blinked blearily.

Everywhere, dull aqua-blue and off-white.

Familiar smells.

Familiar sounds.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

I was suddenly hyperaware that Edward's cool hand rested in mine.

_Beepbeepbeepba-beep_

I heard my own heart splutter hyperactively.

"Bella?" Edward asked anxiously.

I squinted as his blurred face came into focus.

Dark eyes, tousled bronze hair, pale skin.

So beautiful.

His lips were suddenly on mine. I responded eagerly, trying to pull my hands up so I could touch his handsome face, his perfect hair…

An IV was attached to my arm.

The pain suddenly creeped up on me, my head throbbing.

Edward's cold lips moved strongly against mine.

The monitor flatlined.

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep_

He was suddenly gone. I groaned.

Everything suddenly seemed so painful now that Edward was more than an inch away.

My _head_…

I groaned again.

"Bella! Are you okay?"

His hands flew to my head. He swiftly adjusted the bandages.

"I'm fine…" I mumbled, trying to sit up.

He helped me up.

He stroked my hair, looking into my eyes. We sat in silence for a few moments.

Then: "Bella…why did you break my car?"

I sighed. "It was an accident!" I exclaimed, exasperated. It came out louder than I intended it to be.

"Shh…" he soothed me. "I know…what were you doing, anyway?"

I began to tell him the whole story, ending at the part where I skidded on the rug. He listened in silence.

I finished with, "I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to! I know how much your car means to you. I love you so much! But I understand if you're angry at me…"

To my surprise, Edward laughed. "Bella, you mean so much more to me than my _car_! The door handle can be replaced; the paint can be redone." he chuckled. "But you, my love…are irreplaceable."

I suddenly felt very stupid.

He smiled slightly and rolled his eyes. "Oh…and Charlie accidentally cleaned the counters with paint remover."

"Ohh!" I exclaimed, blushing.

"And…I put your backpack in your room before I left. Didn't you see it?"

**T H E. E N D.**

**Gah. I told you it was bad.**

**Ah, well.**

**Review! It will make me feel so much better about actually publishing this story.**

**The only reason you shouldn't review is if you want me to go jump off a cliff.**

**And if you want me to jump off a cliff, you're pretty mean.**

**Anyway, I accept anonymous reviews. So you people without accounts can review too! Woohoo!**

**Acknowledgments: Ms. Potane, for telling poor seventh graders boring stories.**

**And Trog, for laughing when I told her my idea for this story.  
**

**Ily, reviewers!**

**-Boo!**


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